Color Me Blood Red
by Tifa Gainsborough
Summary: Vincent mourns as twisted memories control him. Color his soul, blood red.


Shards of glass, scattered remains of a once glorious mirror, littered the floor. Piercing the underside of his bare feet. A single sharp flick of his ankle sent shards scattering. Flecks of blood danced on the shards. The light caught it, casting it across the room.

__

Color me blood red, he sneered at the light. _Fitting_.

The spider web ruins of the mirror riveted him. Reflecting his face in broken pieces. Running one finger over his cracked reflection, a bitter laugh broke his lips._ I understand now why you could never love this face_.

After so many moments apart, he could still smell her scent. Enveloping him, caressing every inch of his body. The flavor of her still lingered on the tip of his tongue. Fingers tingled with reminder of the feel of her body.

__

So beautiful. So damning.

The scream erupted outwards, throwing his head back. Not a single ounce of humanity was incased in the bitter scream of rage. A scream of passion and anger. Crimson eyes narrowed at his human reflection. Halls still echoing with the scream. In a sweep of crimson the reflection vanished. Feet carried him away, leaving blood stained footprints in his wake.

Thoughts wandered back to her. Her memory was a vulture on his soul. Shredding the carcass, leaving the scattered remains to rot in the harsh hands of time. 

His mind slowly reconstructed her features. Eyes that were soft, when not narrowed with though, they smiled. The smallest sparkle of humanity illuminating her serene brown eyes. Through lowered lashes she teased, playfully hinting at something more. At all times judging, constantly criticizing those around her. They could be in her world, but in her eyes, they would be nothing more then unpretentious objects. 

Lips, painted a vibrant red with the wilted petals of a bloody rose. Smile was delicate, cleverly masking the demon dwelling within her. She was a demon trying to play god. All the while being played herself. 

One night he had her. The one night he went submissively into her control. Owning her and playing his own fool.

__

"Love me." She had whispered. _"Love me Vincent. My beautiful Vincent. Love only me."_

She had blinded him. Those delicate hands buried in his face, crushing, tugging, owning, his eyes. Groaning, his fingers shot up, protecting his eyes from invisible hands.

True to that demand, moaned through the throes of passion, he loved only her. To his grave, within the depths of his hell, he could only love her.

He was moving, aimlessly letting his mind direct him. Torn skin of his feet knitted back together. 

__

No need to worry, he mused bitterly, _the demon took care of its own._ _As you did. You condemned me, women. Through my own love you trapped me. _

Taking the stairs one at a time, he tried to ignore her. Trying to ignore the invisible shadow that mimicked his every move. At times, he could almost see her. Delicately dancing down the stairs, smiling and reaching for him. Blood stained hands offering up the beating mass of red. To remind him of what he missed. What she possessed. 

If he turned swiftly enough, perhaps he could capture her. Grasp her face in his hands… Yet then what?

  
Shred that smile from her face. Lavish in the blood, waterfall of crimson cascading down his arm. Sounds of pale flesh, peeling away under the anger he threw upon her. Could he taste the blood? Staining his tongue with her death. Feed the demon her body, possessing not only one, but another. She would smile. Flecks of flesh imbedded under his fingernails. Her lips enclosing over them, nibbling on her own skin. All the while smiling at him.

Or perhaps, his mouth would find hers. The warmth of her body inviting, drawing him within her. Fingers trailing over creamy skin, shuddering at the feel of her body quiver under his.

Neither was good enough for her. Nothing enough to rid him of her. Rage would still tear at him. Smiling maliciously as he kneeled vulnerably at her feet. Love kept him shackled to her side, eternally. 

__

My beauty. You have damned me.

And I love you still.

~*~*~

****

A/N: Vincent mourning his beautiful, yet twisted, Lucrecia. 


End file.
